


No Stars in the Sky

by popculturereference



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: (sort of?), AU in which bruce isn't there at the circus and doesn't adopt Dick, Alternate Universe, Angst, Dick isn't adopted by bruce but becomes robin anyway, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Canon, WRONG AGAIN, WRONG he gets put in juvie like in canon but w/o bruce to get him out he stays there, but he'll be okay right?, by consequence he also doesnt adopt jason but he'll be okay right?, canon? idk her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2020-09-26 23:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20397784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popculturereference/pseuds/popculturereference
Summary: Dick Grayson has been in Miller Memorial Juvenile Detention Center since his parents were killed 6 years ago. At this point, he's just counting down the time until he can leave.13 year old Jason Todd is sent Miller Memorial after having been caught red-handed trying to steal someone's tires. He was just doing what he had to do to survive, okay?Barbara Gordon's been Batgirl for two years, despite Batman's reluctance (read: outright refusal) to let her work with him. Not like she cares, though. She's got Robin now!





	1. Chapter 1

It was almost like a normal morning. Jason stood by the sink and splashed water on his face. After towelling off, he looked in the mirror and decided that he looked the same as he did the day before-- maybe more anxious, though. A smile should fix that. No, the smile wasn’t working; he looked like a little kid. Better try a frown. 

He slipped out of the pajamas the policeman had given him and back into his own ratty jeans and hoodie. He put the pajamas in his bag because they were warm, and with the Gotham winter on its way, that would definitely be useful. Ready.

The officer that came to collect him wasn’t the same one from last night, which was good, but he was too bright and smiley, so Jason scowled harder.

“Good morning, Jason. How did you sleep?”

“Just peachy, thanks.” He bit back the rest of the reflexive sarcastic retort. The less he said, the better.

The officer laughed and jangled his keys before unlocking the cell. Jason grit his teeth and braced himself for whatever horrors the day would surely hold.

“Here, follow me,” the officer said, already walking. “We’re going to meet with a social worker. He’s nice, so don’t worry.”

Jason felt the bubbles churn in his stomach again. He clenched his hands tighter around the strings of his bag as he followed officer’s boots ahead of him. They were clunky, so the sound of Jason’s own footsteps was covered. The white tile reminded him of a hospital; it was scuffed and chipped, but cleaner than the last hospital he’d seen. Just as ugly, though. The officer didn’t seem to care about the ugly floors and instead tried to get Jason to trust him.

“So, Jason, where do you go to school?” Okay, small talk. Jason knew how to shut down small talk. 

“Greenbrook.” 

Brown smiled. “Oh, cool, right close by the river, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your favorite subject?”

“Dunno.” The officer seemed nice enough, but Jason wasn’t so naive that he didn’t know about gotham cops. They were infamous and disliked by everyone, even those goody-goody stay out of trouble types. Brown may have seemed friendly, but he was a Gotham cop. So he was probably just as bad as the officer that brought him in yesterday, taking bribes from the real criminals with the money, but bullying people like Jason who didn’t have a choice.

“I was always a fan of P.E., you know? Probably sounds ridiculous when you look at me now, but I was real athletic. Not bad at basketball, either. You like any sports, Jason?”

Actually, there was a hoop in front of an apartment complex down the street, and ever since Micah had invited him a year ago, Jason went and played every Wednesday.

“Not really.” 

“Okay…well. Got any hobbies? What do you like to do?”

“Sleep.”

“Ah. Good hobby, that.”

Jason didn’t reply, and after a long pause, there was no way for Officer Brown to naturally continue the conversation, so he started to whistle and swing his keys as they walked down the hall. If it was meant to put Jason at ease, it did the opposite. He put his hands in his pockets and kept stride with Brown, grateful that his soft, worn-sneaker footsteps were covered by Brown’s careless, clunking boots.

Eventually, they arrived at some sort of lobby. Following Brown’s lead, Jason sat in one of the chairs, then moved his hands from his pants pocket to the big pocket of his hoodie. He slouched, hunched his shoulders in, and stared at the ground. Involuntarily, his leg started to bounce. As soon as he noticed, he stopped. Without Brown’s heavy footsteps, Jason’s tapping was suddenly much more conspicuous. Instead, he wrung his hands together in his hoodie. His stomach continued to churn, and the more time he had to think, the worse he felt.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. I got cocky. I gotta be more careful. Can’t let things go to my head like that. Way to go, Jason. Next time, why don’t you wear a neon vest? Might as well. If there is a next time. If I ever get out of here. If I even-_

“Morning, Officer Brown!” Jason startled at the big voice, and his eyes came up to watch another policeman walk out of an office and into the lobby. “And you’re Jason. I’m Officer Harrell, and I’ll be giving you a quick interview, so if you’d come with me to my office.”

Brown beat Jason to an answer. “Actually, we were waiting here for Dylan, the social worker. Jason’s only thirteen, so he’s supposed to-”

“Just a quick interview, Curt. Nothing to do with Jason here, just a precaution to make sure there wasn’t anything else that we missed.”

Jason’s eyes darted from Harrell to Brown, who now looked irritated, but said, “Okay, fine.”

In Harrell’s office, Jason switched tactics. He tipped back in the plastic chair with his feet on Harrell’s desk so that only the back two legs were on the ground, laced his hands behind his head, and shot Harrell his best grin, the one that used to make his mom huff and twitch until she stomped away to avoid strangling him.

“What can I do for you, officer?

Jason had wanted to annoy the officer, and it was working. Harrell’s lips formed a thin line, like he was forced to dig his teeth into them to keep the irritation in. He took two deep breaths through his nose and looked up to the ceiling–probably praying for patience. Jason was well acquainted with that look. He smirked. The officer was either going to blow up at him, or he was going to hold it in and get this little chat over with as soon as possible. Either way, a win for Jason.

After a long few seconds, he looked back down at Jason. 

“Just a few questions for you,” he started. Jason smirked again and started to speak, but the officer just raised his voice and spoke over him.

“_So._ You were found last night near Park Row lifting tires-”

“More like-” Brown didn’t even pause for Jason’s snarky comment and kept talking.

“_And there were reports_ last night that the batmobile was in the area. Now, did you see the Batmobile, or hear any rumors about Batman being in the area?”

“Nope,” Jason said cheerily. “Later, Officer!” he said, lifting his feet and letting the chair legs slam back on the ground. He tossed a wave behind him as he left, and imagined the officer biting his lip so hard it left permanent tooth indents. He ended up back in the waiting room, and just like that, his bravado was gone and he noticed his hands shaking slightly. He clenched his fists. This sucked. He needed to get out. Would the social worker help with that, or would he prevent that? 

Jason had heard horror stories about this stuff. They said they would drag you from your home in your socks without even letting you stop to put on shoes. He’d heard that they’d take you to work in factories in the sewers because no one would even miss you. He’d also heard that they sold kids to the Mad Hatter for his experiments. So whatever was coming, Jason knew it wasn’t going to be good.  
  


\------

5 hours later, Jason had to admit that he was at least glad he wasn’t being experimented on by the Mad Hatter. Granted, this wasn’t much better. He was in jail. Juvie, technically. But it was the same thing. The whole building was enclosed by a literal barbed wire fence. Jason refused to be intimidated, but this place seemed truly awful so far. He felt surrounded by misery; it was already seeping into his bones. They had showed him to his new room and warned him that since they hadn’t been expecting him, he was locked in for the time being.

While the police station had been air conditioned to the point of being chilly, the air in this place was muggy and and slightly sticky. Jason’s shirt clung to him wetly even after he’d taken off his bag. He’d tossed it on the bottom bunk as he stood surveying his new room after a lovely tour of the Miller Memorial Juvenile Detention Center. The tour had included highlights like 360 degree cameras in every hallway, high-tech locks on every door, barred windows, and a well-kept barbed wire fence. The security was obviously the only thing they bothered taking care of here, Jason decided as he glanced around the room with disgust. The walls were smudged and scummy in the way that only came from years without cleaning, and there was slimy mildew on the window frame and where the walls met the floor. His roommate was also obviously a slob; the top bunk was covered in food wrappers and the covers were unmade.

Jason was tempted to start scrubbing down the room, but he didn’t plan to stay here. He may not have been the most polished boy in the books, but damn it if he wasn’t resourceful. After all, he’d evaded _the Batman_ last night. Jason allowed himself a secret smile. He’d be out within the month.

He settled onto the bottom bunk, crossed his ankles, and laced his hands behind his head, ready to get some rest after the three days that he’d just had. He lasted like that for about ten seconds. The room was really gross, and no room of Jason’s could be allowed to have mildew on the walls, even if he wasn’t going to be staying long, so he picked up the small washrag hanging from the bedframe and set to work.

Two hours and lots of scrubbing later, Jason decided that he hated his roomate. He’d scrubbed down the walls and window as best he could with just the small rag and water, but there was nothing he could do about his roommate’s mess. Just glancing at the top bunk made him annoyed. Its occupant had taken all six drawers, three of which were meant for Jason. His things in the drawers were shoved in and falling out the back of them, causing them to not shut right. Even though there was a small sink in the corner, he’d opted to throw his tube of toothpaste and comb on the unmade top bunk. Also, how long had he been here and not scrubbed any of the slime off of the walls?

Deciding that there was nothing more to be done, Jason wrung out the rag (which he now realized was his roommate’s washcloth). He sagged onto the bed, feeling a little like that washcloth: limp and wrung out. He let that feeling carry him into sleep.

  
\------ When Jason woke, there was orange sunlight slanting through the window, leaving long shadows of the bars on the floor. He yawned rubbed at his eyes, then sat up to try and get rid of the boneless, groggy feeling in his limbs. The bed creaked and swayed, and then, all of a sudden, there was someone standing in front of him. Jason blinked and froze mid yawn.

“Morning,” the boy said. “Or, afternoo- whatever. Hurry up and put this on-” he tossed a pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt at Jason, “-or we’ll miss dinner.” He turned around and Jason quickly scrambled into the uniform. Then, he glared at the boy’s back. Jason had been expecting someone a little less clean-cut and a little more dingy-looking, what with the mess he’d left and the fact that he was obviously a criminal too or he wouldn’t be here. He looked a little older, maybe 17, and his black hair was shinier than the mirror Jason had just scrubbed. 

The electronic lock on the door clicked open and Jason headed toward the door. The hallway was now swarming with other gray-clad boys. Jason’s roommate strolled up next to him and put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. Jason shoved it off. His roommate huffed and crossed his arms, scowling.

“Listen. Stick by me. You don’t want to be on your own the first day, trust me. And watch your step, there are a few boards nailed in that you don’t want to trip over.” He paused, leading the way out into the hall. “And, for the love of all that is sacred and holy,” he said, leaning toward Jason and widening his eyes, “do not eat any dairy products from the cafeteria. You’ll regret it.” He grinned. “I’m Dick. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author writes about moldy walls and it is sadly based on personal experience.

It had been a long, long month for Dick Grayson.

Number one: it was August. August always sucked in Gotham. The rain had started, but the heat hadn’t let up, so the air was constantly heavy and humid. There was no AC or anything to filter the air, so it was even worse indoors, and little spots of mildew spread from damp spots on the floors, walls, and ceilings. The few painted walls in the building were peeling. Mold grew behind the paint and caused the drywall to inflate then crumble, leaving flakes of paint and powder on the floors. The little outdoor activity area which was referred to as the Cabbage Patch was all but unusable. It was bad enough during the rest of the year– hard and frozen in the winter, or trampled to a barren patch of dirt in the summer–but August was the worst because it was nothing more than a splotch of mud. When they had time outdoors, they were now confined to the little cement pad. 

Number two: It had been an exhausting month because the place had undergone some heavy renovations. No, they hadn’t fixed the moldy, peeling walls. They hadn’t installed air conditioning. They hadn’t planted new grass. They hadn’t fixed the showers, or the cracked chairs, or updated the software the boys used to take classes. They had, however, installed 60 new security cameras indoors and 18 outdoors. Dick knew–he’d counted. There were also new locks on all the doors. It had been something of an obstacle at first, but now he was accustomed to the security and had worked his way around it. Well, mostly. Night was fine, but during the day, all of his interactions were in view of the cameras and he’d had to keep a tight hold on his reactions around some of the nastier kids. It was exhausting and it made him antsy; he now relied more heavily than ever on crime-fighting to keep him sane.

Which made number 3 the worst offense of all: they’d given him a roommate.

Now _that_ was sure to complicate things. Dick hadn’t ever been caught sneaking out at night, and he wanted it to stay that way. Generally speaking, it was a lot harder to take the bars off the window and climb out when he had to worry about a roommate waking up catching him in the act. What was more, Jason seemed the type to be aware of his surroundings. Dick had returned to the room after working on his studies to see it cleaner than it had ever been. Smudges and mildew had been wiped off the walls, the glass of the window was almost clear, and all of his stuff he’d left throughout the room had been dumped on the top bunk. So, the first thing Jason had done on arriving was inspect the room. Dick thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t noticed the loosened screws on the grate over the window.__

_ _Dick sighed and pushed his food around the tray with a fork. He glanced up to see the new roommate looking at him, so he ate a bite of boiled carrot and smiled, orange mush on his teeth. Jason just looked at him like he was crazy . Well, he’d have to figure something out. Either get Jason out of there or get him to keep his mouth shut, probably through the usual route of blackmail, intimidation, and some tasteful, well-placed violence. Dick looked him over again. No, that wouldn’t be right. Jason was small and scrawny, twelve or thirteen at the most. When Dick had seen him asleep on the bottom bunk like some sort of Gotham Goldilocks, his first instinct was to feel bad for him—with the grease-stained, threadbare jeans, the bony elbows, and the awkward sprawl over the lopsided mattress, it was hard not to._ _

_ _But Dick hadn’t survived this long by listening to his whiny heart. _ _

_ _He finished the tasteless carrots then started on the peas, saving the best—a meat patty—for last. Jason’s tray was already empty and he was very obviously sizing Dick up while trying to pretend he was staring into space._ _

_ _“Guess you were pretty hungry, huh,” Dick said._ _

_ _“I guess.”_ _

_ _“Or was it the love the cooks poured into these unsalted carrots? You can totally taste it. Brightens the meal, don’t you think?”_ _

_ _Jason not-quite laughed, a little puff of air out the nose. “They’re delicious. Is, um. Is the food always this good?”_ _

_ _“Nah, today’s a special day! They’re celebrating the fact that my cell is clean for the first time in five years.”_ _

_ _Jason reacted like it was a challenge; he drew his shoulders up, and his muscles tensed._ _

_ _“Sorry that I like things clean!” he said defensively. _ _

_ _“Whatever,” Dick said, eating the last of his meat patty and standing up. “Let’s go,” he said, adding his tray to the stack and filching a Jell-O cup from an inattentive boy and handing it to Jason. A little pre-bribery never hurt. After all, it was probably better to try the gentler route first. As they made their way out, Dick started on the welcome speech. “There’s dinner and rec time from 6 to 7:45, then we all gotta be in our rooms by 8 for security check. Today, you’re sticking with me and we’re going to the lab. Then we can settle in for some roommate bonding time!”_ _

_ _“I-”_ _

_ _“We do school in the lab. The computers are trash, but the education is top-notch!”_ _

_ _On second thought, though, maybe it wasn’t an ideal night for school, what with Jason’s arrival and all. Plus, Dick could do with some extra sleep. Plus, he wasn’t THAT far behind, and he’d been working his ass off all month. PLUS, he might as well take advantage of the fact that it wasn’t raining. Plus, school was pointless and stupid anyway. He turned back to look at Jason. He was keeping pace with Dick and looked restless and ready for some excitement—or maybe that was just Dick projecting. No excitement yet, but maybe some fresh air would help._ _

_ _So they changed directions and walked toward the Cabbage Patch. Dick did some push-ups on the pavement, resisted the temptation to take off his shoes and step in the mud, watched Jason try to dribble the flat basketball, spent a fair amount of time staring off into space, watched Jason spend a fair amount of time staring off into space, unwillingly remembered his first day in the detention center, did some more push-ups, watched Jason do some jumping jacks, and stared off into space some more. When the 7:45 buzzer sounded, he was hit with the frustration of having just willingly wasted school time, and then grudgingly led Jason back to their charming little cell._ _

_ _“Ah, home sweet home,” he said as the door thudded shut behind Jason. _ _

_ _He sat on Jason’s bunk, and patted next to him._ _

_ _“Have a seat, Jason,” he said. _ _

_ _Jason sat. He glared.  
“We’re stuck here till 8:00 tomorrow morning. They automatically cut the lights at 10:30 for mandated bedtime, then turn them on again at 6:00 because they hate us. Any questions?”_ _

_ _Jason shook his head. _ _

_ _“Perfect. Time for some cell-mate–ah, I mean, _roommate_ bonding time, then. My name’s Dick, your name’s Jason. I’ve been here a good while, so listen to me when I tell you something, because I know what I’m about. Stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours. Great. We’ve bonded.”___ _

_ _ _ _Jason slouched defensively and glared, but said nothing. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Dick was about to leave off there, but then he remembered his earlier efforts with the Jell-O. He rethought his philosophy. Equal parts stern and sweet. Wow, he’d be a great parent. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And, Jason–I got your back, okay? You have any questions or get in any trouble, you come to me. I wasn’t joking when I said I know what I’m about.” Dick stood up and turned to lean his arm on the top bunk. “Okay. So, uh, good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the fleas, lice, bedbugs, or spiders bite!”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _At the look on Jason’s face, Dick laughed, threw him a wink, and swung up onto the top bunk._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Up on his bed, Dick shoved his stuff to the wall and the foot of his bed. If Jason wanted to clean, good for him, but he couldn’t force Dick to do it. In one fluid set, he tugged his clothes off and his pajama pants on, dry-swallowed a Benadryl, and burrowed his face into his pillow. His thoughts slowed, and he was out cold before 8:15._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _At 2:30, he was up and already coaxing the window screws loose before he even remembered Jason. He froze when he noticed the sniffling coming from the bottom bunk. For a second, the sniffling was overpowered by the clamor of his heartbeat in his ears. When Dick has calmed down enough to analyze the situation, he observed that Jason was sniffling in his sleep, probably crying. As much pity as Dick felt, he had things to do and and criminals to catch, so he slipped out the window and carefully slid the grate back into place. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He edged himself onto the roof and carefully calculated his run to avoid any gate or yard cameras. He started with a relaxed run and rolled his shoulders. As he neared the gap between the roof and the barbed wire, he lengthened his stride to build momentum, then flung himself over the fence. The rush of air swept away the oppressive stagnancy of the air, and for a split second, his heart soared. He landed with a roll and surged forward, stretching three strides, then leaping up the side of the next building to grab a grate and pull himself up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _When he reached the top, he immediately went for his bag attached to the underbelly of a washboard sink. He ditched the pajamas immediately. Oh, but it felt good to get out of that and into some color! He snatched Batman’s grapple gun (Dick’s now), and wasted no time in jumping right off the roof._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _A nice swing later, Dick arrived to the arranged meet-up point._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hey, Batgirl!” he called out at the arch of a swing._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hey, Batboy!” came the reply._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“My name’s not Batboy and you know it’s not!” he said, then tucked into a roll. He straightened, then made a show of dusting himself off. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Batgirl had her hands on her hips as she gave him an amused grin. “I do know that you’re Batgirl’s partner in anti-crime, and you’re male, so. I don’t see any cause for complaint.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Dick rolled his eyes. He tried to squeeze back his stupid smile, but it didn’t work. “Whatever, let’s get going. This is a big one tonight, I can feel it. Race you! Last one there’s a rotten egg!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _With that, Dick left at a sprint._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hey!” Batgirl shouted after him. As her grapple line brought her closer, she shouted between tugs: “I didn’t-painstakingly!-” Dick vaulted over a roof, and Batgirl swung around the side. When she came into his sight at the next building, Batgirl continued her shouting— “Procure! That grapple gun- just for you to- treat it like a toy!”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Dick landed at their destination a few seconds before Batgirl and spun backward to answer, “Spoken like a true rotten egg!”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _In a few minutes, it would be time for serious mode while they watched for the drug-dealing doctor, and even though Dick was all about crime fighting and the like, he wished they could let loose have fun a little longer. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“At least I don’t smell like one,” Batgirl said after she landed._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Dick leaned in and feigned a sniff. “Oh, sweetheart,” he chided condescendingly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but…”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Batgirl took a swat at his arm, then they walked to their hideout and settled down to keep watch._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“So, if I have this right, this is basically Dr. Drug Dealer’s job interview with the mob boss?” Dick asked._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Look at you, remembering the details and everything! Yes, ma’am. Oops, sir. Or, uh, bro? Yes, bro. Dude. Pal. Whatever. Anyway, I also found out that they’re going to ask him to do under-the-table surgeries, on top of the drugs. Problem is, he basically bought his license and hasn’t actually performed the surgeries they’re going to ask him to do, so we’ll see where this goes.” Batgirl pulled out a pair of binoculars and focused them on the top-floor window of the building across the street._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Gotcha,” Dick replied. “How’d you find that out?” Dick wasn’t sure why he bothered asking, he already knew the answer would be—_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Secret,” she said, as she adjusted the sights on the binoculars. Then, abruptly, she leaned back, let out a low whistle, and held them out to Dick. “Take a look, Batboy. I think this just got a little more complicated.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Dick looked through the binoculars, but he didn’t get what she was talking about. He squinted, as if that would help him understand. “Why?” he asked._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Do you see the man with the briefcase?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Dick nodded._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Well, I may be wrong, but I don’t think so, and it’s bad news. He’s the richest man in Gotham: Bruce Wayne.”_ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the stupidest, best idea. I started working it into this chapter, and I'll point it out to y'all when it resurfaces.
> 
> I didn't intend to wait so long to post this, but life (a surgery, 2 jobs, school, etc) just kept getting in the way!
> 
> Tune in next time for Barbara Badass Gordon, Thickening Plot (tm) and hopefully a better job at proofreading. See you next month on No Stars in the Sky!


	3. Chapter 3

It was a strange day indeed when Barbara Gordon felt out of the loop. As a kid, she’d almost always been able to keep up with adult conversation. In school, she felt like she was the only one who actually understood what was going on. And since she’d become Batgirl, information gathering was a necessity. Although she was quick and adaptable, she wasn’t the best or strongest fighter, so she accomplished the most through careful planning and investigation.

For this case, she’d been thorough. It had been tricky; she’d had to learn some alternate methods of data collection, namely, hacking. She was not an expert by any definition of the word, but she’d learned enough to be able to remotely access private files in the doctor’s clinic. What she found was that, every month, without fail, there were large amounts of anaesthetics dropping off of the reports. There was also quite a bit of suspicious correspondence on his personal phone. Babs had been hoping to watch this meetup and get a clue what exactly they would be dealing with.

She hadn’t been expecting Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was a good friend of her dad’s, and she always rolled her eyes with fond exasperation when her dad started talking about what a good man Bruce was. 

“He’s done more than the entire police force to stop crime in this city,” he’d said. “The world needs more people like Bruce Wayne. He may seem like an idiot, but he does a lot more than he lets people know.” 

Guess not. 

She took the binoculars back from Robin and watched Bruce Wayne intently. Well, this was sure going to be a puzzle. She tapped her hand on the ledge like that would break down the mental barrier. It didn’t. She tapped harder and squinted. It was still Bruce Wayne, and he was still talking to their corrupt doctor.

“You take a look, I need to think through this.” She shoved the binoculars back at Robin and mentally catalogued their info.  
1\. Dr. Morgan’s drug dealing business was growing.  
2\. He was supposed to be meeting with some big mafia name tonight.  
3\. The mob was interested in eye transplant surgeries.  
4\. Dr. Morgan had not actually performed any before.  
5\. Bruce Wayne was there. Her dad was friends with him. She had met him, and had not noticed any creepy illegal anaesthetic/eye transplant tendencies, which were generally pretty easy to spot, in her opinion.  
The conclusion: They didn’t have enough information yet. Not much of a conclusion, there.

Babs sighed through her nose. She’d thought they were almost to the end of this, but now they’d have to do more research, hacking, spying, and puzzling. Something in her thought it would probably be a good idea to warn Batman that the most influential man in the city was involved in the mob, but something else in her pushed that thought down quickly. What did Batman have that she and Robin didn’t? Well, a car. But that didn’t really matter. She and Robin had the smarts, and they had the skills. Babs had the cool suit. Robin had the intimidation and blackmail tactics. Babs also had the blackmail tactics.

She turned back to Robin.

“What are you getting, Batboy?”

“It looks like a normal crime meet-up. Nothin’ strange. Dr. Drug Dealer looks intimidated, but we were expecting that.”

Babs took the binoculars back. Robin was capable, but she really didn’t trust anyone besides herself to do things right. It was as he said: It was a normal mob recruitment scene, if she only ignored the fact that Bruce Wayne was doing the recruiting.

“I think we have a new set of priorities, Robin,” Babs said. She didn’t look at him; her eyes stayed fixed on the Important Criminal Activity happening on the other end of the binoculars. “Bruce Wayne is probably the most influential person in the city. We have to figure this out. We can probably keep working on the Dr. Drugs case, but I think the Bruce Wayne issue has gotta take precedence for the immediate future.”

Robin reached for the binoculars to take his turn while he answered. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not from here and I don’t get out a whole lot, but even I know about Bruce Wayne, and this is bad news. I get the feeling that we’re gonna have to do a little more than our ‘incriminating evidence, threats, and beatdown’ routine. For someone with that much money, threats to his reputation and career probably aren’t going to mean much. And, well, he could hire enough security to ignore any other threats. We’re good, but we’re still only two people.”  
Babs was pleasantly surprised. She forgot, sometimes, how alike she and Robin were. If she had brought that up to her dad, he would have insisted that the police would do their job, so Babs didn’t have to worry about it. If she had brought it up to anyone else she knew, they wouldn’t have cared.

She took the binoculars back from Robin. “I like the way you think, Batboy. We’re on the same wavelength. You’re the best sidekick I’ve ever had. Granted, that doesn’t mean much, because you’re also the only sidekick I’ve ever had, but the sentiment still stands.”

Robin bumped her over and snatched the binoculars back. While Robin watched the criminals, Babs watched Robin. He was grinning as he said, “I’m pretty sure you’re the sidekick. Didn’t Tommy Kings call you Batman’s sidekick the other day? Or did he say Batman’s side chick?” 

He let her take the binoculars back, but she just held them instead of watching the meetup. as she replied, “Didn’t I snap his femur? Or was he the one whose teeth I kicked in? It wasn’t that hard, I could do it again! Or... ” she put down the binoculars and let her lips slide into a mischievous smile. “The next time I bring ice cream, I’ll make sure it’s orange flavored.”

Robin tugged back the binoculars. “That’s cruel. You wouldn’t do that to me. Save threats like that for Mr. Millionaire inside.” 

Babs had to admit that Robin looked slightly adorable. His hair was blown back from the wind, and his teeth caught his bottom lip, trying to bite away a smile. He was obviously going for comedically serious. She took the binoculars back, tapped him on the chest with them, and hypocritically said, “Focus.” She turned again to the Important Criminal Activity. With her gaze fixed intently on the criminals, she said, “Remember in kindergarten how they would pass around a squishy cube, and you could only speak if you were holding it? That’s how I feel about my binoculars right now.”

She didn’t see Robin, but she felt him lean against the ledge next to her. “So, how did that work?” he asked. “You had to hold the cube if you wanted to talk? Were there lots of fights?”

“Nah,” she said. She hoped that sounded casual; their shoulders were touching. “Just annoyance.”

He put his hand on the binoculars right next to hers. “Guess I have to keep a hand on the binoculars, yeah? I like talking.”

Babs did the only thing she knew how to get rid of her sudden nervousness: she bumped him with her shoulder and teased him. “That’s right. Everyone knows the sidekick has to be the chatty one.” Robin took his hand off of the binoculars to rest his elbows on the ledge. 

“Well,” he said. “If I’m anyone’s sidekick, I’m glad it’s yours.”

Babs kept her eyes strictly on Bruce Wayne through the binoculars instead of sliding them sideways to look at Robin, trying to focus on details of the scene instead of the hot flush of her face.

After the initial shock, the meetup was uneventful. Wayne and the doctor talked, shook hands, and then left. Batgirl and Robin darted after Wayne’s car, hoping for some sort of enlightening explanation. They followed him until he arrived in the posh part of town and the late-night traffic was too sparse to hold him at their pace. 

“What now?” Robin asked her, out of breath. 

“Now, we rethink our entire approach.” How frustrating. “Let’s do some research and regroup tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. 

They started the trek back to central Gotham. It was slower going than their mad pursuit out; they walked on rooftops and swooped over the gaps. “How’s the Batman thing going?” Robin asked her. Ugh. There was another frustration.

“Same old. I think he wants me to just quit. He knows that if the commissioner acknowledges and works with us; we’ll—well, _I'll_— he doesn’t know about you yet, don’t worry—he knows that I’ll be ten times more effective. And I think he thinks that if I’m more effective, he’ll never get me to quit.”

“Have you thought about talking to the commissioner directly?”

Robin had no idea just how much she couldn’t do that.

“Yeah. It wouldn’t work.”

“Well that sucks.”

“Eh. I’ll get it figured out.” Eventually.

“Aside from that, how are things? 

“Oh, you know. The usual. School starts next week. I’m dreading it, as per usual. I’m gonna try not to let it cut into Batgirl time.”

Robin kicked at an empty cigarette pack on the roof. “Yeah…” he started. “I… I think I might have some issues too. I might not be able to sneak out so easy anymore. Obviously I’m still going to try, but it might not…” He let out a frustrated sigh, then turned and kicked at more trash on the roof.

Babs stopped. “What? Why?”

Robin sighed. “It’s complicated. Basically, I have a roommate now.”

Babs’s thoughts were skittering back and forth, trying to imagine being Batgirl without Robin. It would be more difficult. She’d have to team up with Batman for sure if she wanted to take on anything more than a few thugs. If Batman would even help her. It was a better idea to just stick to her goal of working with the commissioner.  
Also, it would be tedious. She always had more fun with Robin. She hadn’t realized that she always looked forward to seeing him until she felt something heavy settle in her heart at the idea that she might not get to anymore.

“That sucks! That’s so not fair!”

“Yeah. Story of my life. Whatever. I’ll figure it out.” He was glaring at the ground, shoulders hunched. It took Babs off guard. She’d seen Robin angry a few times; he’d yell and punch and kick criminals even harder, then storm and rant afterward. Now, though, he was more subdued.

Well, she couldn’t just leave him like that!

“Let’s make a plan. I’ll help you out. I-” She cut herself off. Did she want to go there?

Yes. She did. “I am going to need to know where you live, though. We-”

“No.”

“We can trade! I’ll tell you my name and show you where I live.”

“I said no!” Robin sighed heavily and brought his hands up to steeple them in front of his mouth. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I think I actually- I think I trust you more than anyone else.” Babs felt a bubble of warmth in her chest. “But, like I said, it’s complicated. It’s not… I’ll figure it out. Let’s head back.”

The rest of the way back was tense. The uncertainty that Babs was carrying weighed her down. Robin just looked sad and defensive, and she hated to see him like this, but he obviously didn’t appreciate her digging into his life. When they reached their usual parting point, Robin hesitated.

“Batgirl. I was able to sneak out tonight because my roommate was so exhausted, I don’t know when’s the next time I’ll make it out here.” He paused and tugged on his hair, then flashed her a smile. “Thanks for everything. Once I get things figured out, I’ll be here.”

“Robin.” She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, until the words came out, and she realized they were true. “You’re my best friend. Don’t wait too long, yeah?”

He just stood there, shocked. Oh, no. Maybe it wasn’t normal for people to be best friends when they didn’t even know each other’s names? Robin probably thought it was pathetic that she didn’t have a best friend in her real life. Well, it would be even more embarrassing to be hurt by a rejection, so grinned and smacked him in the arm. 

“See you later, hopefully.” She turned to flee, but Robin called out to her.

“Wait, Batgirl!” She turned back. “I’m glad to have a best friend like you. I’ll get it figured out.” He reached up and peeled off his mask, stunning Babs. His eyes were watery and there was a red outline where the mask had been sticking to his cheekbones. He smiled and his eyes crinkled. “But just in case, can I hug you?”

Babs pulled off her cowl, very conscious of her flattened, sweat-damp hair as she reached forward to hug him. He was a little taller than she was, her chin reaching his shoulders. It was nice.

“I’ll keep waiting at the same time, same place. Don’t let me down, Batboy.”

“Not Batboy,” he said as he pulled away, “but you can count on me!” The grin was different without the mask. His eyes reflected confidence, but they also let her know that this was a bittersweet moment for him, too.

In her room, Babs waited up until morning, her mind bouncing and lost, watching until the sun rose over Gotham’s gray streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this one..... let me know pls <3  
idk how to write  
hmu on tumblr @pop-culturereference


	4. Chapter 4

Jason woke up and immediately wished he hadn’t.

He was greeted with a lovely view of the frayed underside of an old mattress and the bleach-mold scent of what must be hell. He heard steady breathing from the bunk above, deduced that Dick was still asleep, and decided that he didn’t care. Apparently, it wasn’t six yet because the lights hadn’t been switched on. Perfect. Jason whistled as he made his bed and noisily walked up and down the tiny room. Interrupting someone’s sleep was the easiest way to piss them off.

Making people angry wasn’t nice or cooperative or productive, but it sure was cathartic. 

Jason wasn’t the type to work out in the mornings, but burpees were not quiet and would definitely wake up Dick, who didn’t respond to the whistling and apparently slept like a corpse. The burpees didn’t have time to take effect before the lights turned on. Those got a muted mumble, then a yawn, a corny stretch, and a sleepy “Morning. You a morning person, then?” as Dick sat up and swung his legs so they dangled over Jason’s bed.

Jason gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir. And you are a lazy slob.”

Instead of firing an insult back, Dick glared, then strode over and grabbed the back of Jason’s collar to drag him out the door.

“Okay, then,” he said coldly. “I’m sure you won’t have a problem with my daily routine of slacking off. Lucky you, we have the whole day together. Rule is, for the first week, buddy system unless you want a talking-to and a personal guard as your buddy. And you don’t. So you’re with me.”

Dick, apparently, was the type to work out in the mornings. Jason was stuck outside by a sticky, mosquito-infested mud puddle while Dick did pull-ups on the basketball rim by the little cement square they’d visited the day before.

Dick was also the type to take 2-minute showers and then shut off the hot water before Jason was finished.

To Jason’s irritation, he was also the type to not make his bed and leave the sheets and blankets hanging over the side of the bunk to pollute Jason’s space.

By the time they started toward the cafeteria for breakfast, Jason was channeling all his willpower to keep from punching him in the face. Breakfast was much like dinner the day before. Dick smiled as he ate, apparently so airheaded he couldn’t read Jason’s rising annoyance. As soon as Dick finished his oatmeal, he grabbed both his tray and Jason’s to return them.

“Hey, dickwad! I wasn’t finished!”

Dick raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “That sucks. Time for school,” he said as he dumped Jason’s oatmeal in the trash. Jason had to half-skip to keep up with him as he crossed the cafeteria and stalked into the hall.

“School’s at your own pace. For some of us, we leave when we graduate.” Dick sat, and with a soft, patronizing smile, gestured to the chair next to him. “Be on your best behavior, Jason, and that could be you!” A cheesy thumbs-up, and then he was absorbed in his schoolwork.

Jason filled his time with a placement test to see what level he should start at. He was pretty confident. He’d been good at school; it was only the homework he’d been bad at. He finished and then slumped in his chair waiting for Dick to finish. No one else was in the dingy classroom, probably because no one else was as weird and strict as Dick. Jason tapped his foot to the tick of the second hand on the clock. After about 7 minutes of tapping, he switched to carving into the wooden desk with his thumbnail. It was painstaking work. For the first time, Jason was able to complete a drawing in one sitting. He admired the cityscape he carved, then went back to staring at the clock. He returned to tapping his foot, but it wasn’t enough to dispel his restlessness and irritation. 

After an hour and a half, he analytically eyed Dick’s chair and saw a weak spot where one of the back legs had been glued on. He kicked it in and triumphantly watched the chair collapse.

But Dick didn’t go with it. He stood up as the chair fell, then kicked it away. “Alright, Jason. Let’s talk.”

Jason refused to be intimidated by him, even as Dick slammed his pencil down, leaving a dent in the desk. Jason got to his feet so he could look up at Dick’s face without angling his head. “Okay, let’s talk,” he sneered back. He didn’t know Dick well enough to pinpoint his weak spots, but he could guess. “How long have you been stuck here, huh? You think you’re hot shit because you’ve got your own little rules here in this little playhouse with its little school and its three meals a day.” Jason watched as Dick’s eyes narrowed, and taking that as a good sign, continued. “You have no idea what the real world is like. You’re not tough. What did you even do to end up in here?” Jason cocked his head and pursed his lips, pretending to evaluate Dick. “Ah. I’m guessing you tried to steal candy from a vending machine? Or, wait, did you vandalize school property?” Jason put a hand to his chest and faked a scandalized gasp. “How heinous! How truly criminal of you!”

Dick just gave him a flat look. “You done?”

Jason glared.

Dick took a step toward him, forcing Jason to angle his head to look up at him. 

“I know what you’re doing, Jason. You like to be in control, so you rile people up. When they’re raging and you’re calm, that gives you the advantage because you can manipulate them just the way you like. It’s not going to work on me. I prefer to get angry about things that actually matter, not childish insults.”

“Now,” he continued with a wry smile. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done the same thing, and if I said it didn’t work. Actually, it works better here than it probably does out there, in your ‘real world’. What do you say? Truce? Agree to only use our manipulative powers for good and not against each other?”

Jason scowled suspiciously at Dick’s bright grin. He didn’t say anything. Was Dick being sincere, or did he think Jason was some bright-eyed little kid to be conned with promises of friendship and love and harmony? He slid his hands into his pockets and sighed, but the scowl didn’t leave his face. “Fine.”

“Great!” Dick beamed as he led the way out of the study room. “And, just to let you know, I’ve been here for six years, longer than anyone else. I’ve also put a grown man in the hospital. I broke his jaw, both legs, and a hand. That’s not how I ended up here, though—I didn’t get caught. So,” he cast a glance back at Jason, “be careful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't read through these before posting so let me know how it is. also, let me know of any grammar/spelling issues
> 
> also it's really short
> 
> also, i know Dick is kind of a hothead, but i don't think he'd let Jason rile him up. he's got better things to be angry at.
> 
> hope y'all are all okay what with the pandemic and all. stay groovy


	5. Chapter 5

Dick wasn’t able to go out that night as Robin, or the next night. He went about two weeks without being able to escape before Jason was sleeping regularly enough to give it a try. On what he decided would be the first night back of many, when he was swinging himself from the top bunk to the window, the railing of the bed he was using creaked and snapped, and Dick ended up on the floor with the wind knocked out of him and Jason’s open eyes reflecting the light from the window.

“Sorry,” he said. “Fell out of bed.”

The next morning, Dick examined the railing and saw the rust and the eroding metal. He was surprised when he saw small flecks of white paint; in the six years he’d had that bunk, it had always been a rough sort of black metal. Apparently, though, it had been white once. Well. If the bunk beds were that old and brittle, he’d have to warn Jason that one of these days he’d probably end up crushed in his sleep.

For the past few weeks, Jason had been pointedly not sulking; Dick could tell. Jason didn’t want Dick to know he’d gotten to him, so he was trying to keep up how he had acted the first few days. He was quiet and occasionally snarky, and did not give Dick any impression that he held a grudge from their confrontation. After the first week, they’d both relished their freedom from the buddy system, but Jason hadn’t tried to be rid of him. Dick had half expected him to fall in with one of the groups that had grudges against Dick, but so far, the only other people Dick had seen him with were some of the younger kids on the cabbage patch trying to play a game of basketball with the flat ball that didn’t bounce. 

Because Jason hadn’t gone and joined any of the Grayson grudge clubs, Dick decided that he liked him.

After his one day of pettiness and dumping Jason’s breakfast, he’d gone back to picking desserts off of other peoples’ trays and giving them to Jason. Jason hadn’t done anything else to piss Dick off, and Dick still needed to get him on his side at least enough to let down his guard and sleep deeply enough so he could sneak out.

“Did you fall off the bunk last night, or was that a dream?“ Jason asked on the way to breakfast. 

“No, yeah, that definitely happened. Look at this bruise,” Dick said, angling and tugging up his sleeve so Jason could see where he’d hit his shoulder on the ground. “The railing broke. I hate this place.” 

Jason huffed a laugh in response. “Understatement of the century.”

“Oh, what, you don’t like, uh,” Dick squinted to see the breakfast menu on the whiteboard as they turned the corner, “reheated oatmeal?”

“The reheated oatmeal is the best thing about this place,” Jason said, completely serious. Dick didn’t quite agree, he’d say the best thing is the fact that he knew the cameras well enough to sneak out at night, but Jason didn’t need to know that. Either way, complaining would open up a nice alley to conversation, and it would be nice to get along better with his roommate.

“Tell me about it. I probably already have fungus growing in my lungs from all the mold I breathe in. 

“I haven’t even been here a month and I think I have mold growing on me already. I look sickly. Do you think if we die they let us out of here, or does the mold just cover us up?

They were waiting in line for oatmeal, now. “No dying for you, Jason,” Dick said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve decided I like having a roommate to torture, so you’re stuck with me.”

They sat together as they ate, and Dick waited for him to finish before he got up to leave, saying, “Later, small fry, I’m headed to do some school work.”

Jason turned down the other hallway, and Dick made his way to the computer room. Or tried to, anyway. The new cameras allowed only one blind spot in the hallway, and in it were lurking three boys. “Hold up, Dick. Let’s have a talk,” growled one as he grabbed Dick’s arm. 

Dick drew back his other arm and punched him in the face. “Let’s not.” 

Before he’d started going out as Robin, Dick got in a lot of fights. At first, it had been necessary; he’d been younger than anyone else there by at least two years, and he was from the circus. Once, they’d strung him up on a telephone line as a thunderstorm came in, telling him to “walk the tightrope, circus boy!” He’d managed to untangle himself before the storm, but not before he was spotted and punished for rebellious behavior. He’d learned to fight in the first place to keep himself out of reach of the other kids, then he became known for it, then he started to like it. It served him well as Robin, and it also served his reputation, making almost everyone else give him a big bubble of personal space and not make a fuss when he swiped their desserts. Since he’d started crimefighting, he’d fought less in the compound to save his energy and uninjured state for the streets, relying mostly on his reputation to keep everyone else off his back. Most of the fighting he did nowadays was when he found out about bullies who tormented the younger kids. That’d slowed, too; either they’d stopped because they knew Dick would come after them, or they’d suddenly grown brains and learned to hide it better, which was less likely.

Situations like this did pop up, though.

Two of them tried to hold his arms down while the other retaliated. They only got in one punch to his gut before he twisted out of the way, slammed his foot down on someone’s ankle, kneed another in the crotch, and rammed the last one into the wall.

“Leave me alone,” he said, pushing them out of the blind spot and sending them stumbling away. He made sure to leave the blind spot limping and clutching his arm so he wouldn’t get in trouble for going around beating everyone up. At least with a faked injury, hopefully anyone watching the footage would think the other three had started it.

\------

School was like it always was. Boring, difficult, and frustrating. As soon as he’d found out he could sneak out whenever he wanted, the only thing keeping him put was the promise of a diploma. Even that was a pretty new goal, so he was far behind where he should have been. The only way to catch up was to force himself to get two days’ worth of classwork done every day. 

After his little not-quite-fight in the hallway, his mind kept drifting, and he had to forcibly tear his mind off of other thoughts and smack it back onto his schoolwork in hopes that it would stay there. It resulted in a feeling of restlessness.

_Punnett squares, alleles,_ he forced his mind to say.

_Gotham, night, Bruce Wayne? Batgirl, criminals, flying, Batgirl, justice, Batgirl, Batgirl, Batgirl,_ said his heart.

As soon as he finished, he went to the Cabbage Patch to let off some energy, but it was already occupied. Jason was there with a group playing basketball—with a tennis ball. The basketball had caved in and was now a basket-pancake in the mud puddle. Since the Patch was empty, Dick considered doing pull-ups on his bedframe, but thought better of it when he remembered how it had broken the night before. In the end, he hooked his feet around the links in the fence just below where the barbed wire started and hung there upside-down thinking and plotting his triumphant return as Robin.

He hoped that Batgirl hadn’t given up on him already.

\-----------

That night, he lay awake looking at the ceiling and waiting for Jason’s breath to even out. He liked the top bunk for many reasons: he had easy access to the window bars, it gave him a chance to be up high, and it was more closed-off and private than the bottom bunk. It did come with drawbacks, though. He’d found one of them that morning, when the railing snapped, but the one he was more accustomed to was the ceiling. There were always little chunks of the ceiling peeling off, and a lot of times he’d wake up covered in gray ceiling powder. He reached up and worked off a loose chunk so it wouldn’t fall on him later. Jason’s breathing was slower now, but not loud enough for him to be deeply asleep yet.

Dick started thinking an old circus tune in his head. He didn’t hum it out loud; he didn’t want to jar Jason out of his light sleep, but it was a better way to pass the time than picking at the crumbling plaster on the ceiling.

When he heard Jason mutter in his sleep, he knew he could sneak out. After he’d climbed out and was pulling the grate back into place, he heard Jason’s breath go ragged. Dick knew what that was like—the nightmares—so he felt bad leaving Jason to it alone, but there wasn’t anything he could do, anyway. Or, well, nothing he was willing to do. He could probably wake Jason up, but that would prevent him from going out as Robin. He stood another moment before closing the window, deliberating. Would it really be so bad to wait another night?

Yes. He’d been dying to get out for the last two weeks, and he’d already failed one attempt.

No. Batgirl was perfectly capable of handling criminals, and even though they made a great team, she could do without him for one more night.

Yes. What if this was the last night that Batgirl waited for him, and by tomorrow, she’d given up on him?

No. Jason may be a brat, but he was also just a kid and having a nightmare.

It wouldn’t be so bad to miss another night, but Dick had given up enough and he wanted more than anything to get out.

In the end, Dick ignored the guilt nudging him back toward the window, turned, and leapt up onto the roof.

Batgirl wasn’t waiting at the usual spot. Instead, Dick spotted her on the way. As he swung by an alleyway, he heard some suspicious thunks and yells, so he’d dropped in, only to see that the thunks were from Batgirl whamming someone’s head into a wall. He took out the last guy with a kick to the balls, then tied him up before Batgirl noticed him.

“Robin! Long time no see!”

She ran toward him and he thought she was going to give him a hug, but instead she punched him in the shoulder. “I’ve missed you,” she said with a grin. “How’s it going? Did you get your situation figured out? What do—” She stopped. To Dick, it looked like a thought had just hit her over the head. “Oh, you wouldn’t _believe_, did you see it? Do you watch local news?” 

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, that big case we’ve been working on, the one with the doctor, and Bruce Wayne showed up?” She asked it like a question, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Everyone was arrested. The doctor, the mafia, the low-level thugs. My d—it seems like the police didn’t really have anything to do with it, apparently, _Batman_ was the one who caught them.”

“Batman, again?” 

Batgirl grabbed two of the thugs she’d tied up and started to drag them out of the alley as she answered. “And after we did all the work! He just comes in like a vulture and takes the leftovers of what we’ve already done! Vulture-man.” She dropped the two thugs she was dragging and kicked them out of the alley. She sighed. “I’ve got to go to print off some photos. They’re the only evidence I have for these guys.”

Dick waited on the top of a 24-hour supermarket while Batgirl ran in, cape and all, to get the photos printed off. Dick was not well acquainted with supermarkets. He’d rarely been allowed to leave the detention center, and when he slipped out at night, it was not on his list of top destinations.

They dropped the photos with the tied-up thugs and Batgirl filled him in on the case. It was like he’d never even been gone.

“The infuriating thing, though,” Batgirl said, “is that they caught everyone except Bruce Wayne. His name wasn’t even _mentioned!_”

“Yeah, it’s disgusting how you can get away with anything if you have enough money. If I were that rich, I would gear up like Batman, get a bike though instead of a car.”

They climbed out of the alleys and onto the roofs of buildings where they could watch for crime from above. Lamplight caught on the steam of heat rising from the sewers, casting shadows and obscuring the trodden litter on the streets. From up this high, Dick liked Gotham. It had a kind of peaceful, misty feeling, which was helped by the fact that they were high up enough to not smell the urine that coated the streets.

He and Batgirl sat back to back, each looking down a separate block.

Batgirl sighed. “If I had all that money, I think I would adopt as many kids as possible. Like, the older ones everyone always leaves behind.”

Dick stayed very still and scanned for criminals, but he felt strange. Batgirl was talking about people like _him._ Should he feel touched that she cared about orphans? Should he feel disgusted and offended because she would probably pity him if she knew? Oh, nevermind; he knew exactly what he should feel: guilty. Batgirl’s desire to help kids reminded him of Jason, who was probably in a nightmare Dick had deliberately left him in.

“I, uh, I don’t tell this to a lot of people,” Batgirl’s voice was clear and he could hear it easily; she’d probably turned her head from her designated watch to try and look back at him. Dick didn’t move, but he’d lost his focus on looking for crime and was now gazing out over the steaming city. “I live with my dad, but he’s not my biological dad, he’s actually my biological uncle. My mom died about five or six years back and he adopted me. It was a long process, because he’s middle-aged and single and lives alone, which is apparently like a big red flag for adoption, and in the meantime it was horrible.”

“I’m glad it worked out, though,” Dick said, not sure which part to respond to.

“Hm. Yeah. So if I had a lot of money that’s what I’d do.”

“We—” Dick quickly stopped himself. He’d been about to say, “We could adopt twenty kids, and then we’d have enough to start a circus.” We. Together. Kids. Together. _Let’s keep that one to ourselves, okay, Dick? _“We, uh, we, could start an orphanage,” he tried to recover. Starting an orphanage together was not inherently a couples thing. Hopefully. “We could call it Saint Robin’s.” 

Now, Dick turned to glance at Batgirl. She had her legs sprawled out in front of her and leaned back on her hands. She craned her head back until she was looking at him upside down. “Hah! Saint? Hardly! We’d name it Batgirl and Batboy’s Home for-” 

She was interrupted by a yell, and immediately, they were both on their feet. Dick leapt over the gaps between rooftops, and Batgirl followed. No swinging this time; it wasn’t as quiet and they usually relied on some element of surprise.

It was a man curled up on the ground and being kicked by three people. Robin and Batgirl jumped in immediately, incapacitating the three attackers and tying them up.

“You okay, sir?” Dick asked, but the man jumped to his feet and ran. He probably had drugs on him or something. Ugh.

Batgirl grumbled, “ugh, again?” under her breath as they turned to chase him. They didn’t have to chase him far, though. At the mouth of the alley, the man stumbled and stopped short. As they got closer, Dick saw exactly why: he was pinned to the wall with batarangs, the shadow of Batman looming over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best, but it's an update! This is courtesy of a lovely person who messaged me on tumblr saying that she liked my story which made me think I should probably update it. shoutout to you <3 <3
> 
> Next time on No Stars in the Sky: Batgirl and Robin have a nice li'l chat with batman :)


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